A Day In The Life

Preparing for my role in the opera was one of the most physically demanding things I have ever done.  You may scoff and think that I’ve never done any hard labor in my life, but I cleared fence rows this summer and I can honestly say that cutting brush and brambles was child’s play compared to rehearsing for The Marriage of Figaro.  The rehearsal schedule was brutal.  I’ve never sung so much in my life.  Morning, noon and night…..singing, singing, singing.  We blocked out our scenes on stage.  We practiced entrances and exits.  There were several dance scenes in the opera and I had to learn to waltz while singing.  That may not sound too difficult, but you should try waltzing while hitting a succession of high A-flats.  I sounded like an asthmatic for the first couple of weeks. 

Along with the physical demands there were extreme emotional and mental challenges.  I had to sing while embracing the male leads.  Talk about stressful.  Imagine being right in a man’s face singing opera.  I was constantly worried about  garlic breath or having lettuce stuck in my teeth.  To make matters even more tense, the director demanded that Figaro and I really kiss each other.  No fake, theatrical smooches.  We had to kiss.   I almost died the first time Figaro’s real-life wife sat in the theater during a rehearsal in which I had to lay one on her husband.  I kept expecting her to rush on stage and slap me. 

And let’s not forget my arch-rival, Miss H who was given a smaller, supporting role in the production.  Miss H. was none to happy about losing the lead role to little ole me.  She took every opportunity to up stage me in the first few weeks of rehearsal.  For those of you who may not know, upstaging is when a performer deliberately moves from their mark on stage to stand in front of another performer and block them from the audience’s view.  Madame kept me in the theater after rehearsals late one night and taught me how to gracefully counteract the upstaging Miss H.  And, if being graceful failed, Madame showed me how to use my body to simply shove the offensive Miss H. out of my way while never missing a note.  I got to try that technique out in the very next rehearsal and I must say, I really enjoyed it.  Miss H. didn’t do so much up staging after that incident. 

The day before the first performance I developed a case of sniffles.  By noon, I was coughing and running a slight temperature.  Madame packed me into her car and took me to her personal physician.  He gave me a gargantuan shot of vitamin B-12 in the buttocks and sent me home to rest.  In the meantime, Madame bought a case of Perrier and a pound of lemons.  On opening night, Madame had a table from her home set up backstage with Perrier at room temp and a huge bowl of quartered lemons just for me.  She even had one of her freshman vocal students sitting by the table to make sure no one else partook of my bottled water and citrus.  I was a nervous wreck, but the vitamin B-12 had worked wonders.  The Perrier and lemon worked to keep the vocal cords and throat free of phlegm.  And my opening night performance was dazzling.  I received a standing ovation and three curtain calls.  I was on cloud nine!  Two more performances and a matinee later, my leading role debut was history.  It was a heady experience and I cannot  begin to tell you how much I learned about music, performing, working with other prima donnas and about life in general. 

 Susanna: Yes, Im very pleased with that:  It seems just made for me.  Take a look, dear Figaro.  Just look at me in this hat of mine.

Susanna and Figaro: On this morning of our wedding how delightful to my (your) dear one is this pretty little hat which Susanna made herself.

All:  Then let us all be happy.  This day of torment, of caprices and folly, love can end only in contentment and joy.  Lovers and friends, let’s round things off in dancing and pleasure.  And to the sound of a gay march let’s hasten to the revelry.

Many years ago I was a student at a certain southern university.   The music department on that Louisiana campus was full of highly skilled, talented, ambitious and arrogant music students.  I ought to know.  I was one of them.  The performing arts building had a wonderfully dramatic,  intense atmosphere, rife with intrigue and halls that were always echoing with  music.  The vocal instructors were just as competitive as their students.  They pushed and prodded us, encouraging us one minute while tearing us to shreds with brutal honesty about our performances the next.   The stress level was high.  The competition was cut-throat.  It was exhilarating.  It was frightening.  It was beautiful.  It was music.

During my freshman and sophomore years, I had participated in several opera performances as a chorus member and in some very minor roles.  As a 20-year old college junior, my vocal instructor informed me that I was ready for a leading role.  The opera production that year was  Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro.  Madame told me that I would audition for the female leading role and who was I to argue with her.  I’d been a prima donna since birth and it was high time the rest of the world recognized me as such.  Thus began a period of preparation and practice rigorous enough to prepare me for the vocal olympics if there was such a thing.  Madame practically controlled my every waking moment from singing endless vocalises to improve my vocal flexibility to physical conditioning to increase my stamina. 

The audition date finally arrived.  Only two other young women besides myself were auditioning for the part of Susanna, the female lead in The Marriage of Figaro.  I know it must sound horrible, but I was only concerned with one of them.  The other poor girl just didn’t stand a chance.  The battle lines were drawn between myself and my arch-rival, Miss H.  I must say that my audition was wonderful.  I was Susanna, a scheming, seductive and voluptuous little maid in the employ of Il Conte de Almavira.  Every note was perfectly tuned, every rhythm precise, every vocal nuance perfected.  I flirted, I flounced, I sang my heart out and I got the part. 

Ah, that’s enough for this evening. The prima donna will return to finish the story at a later date.